New-Hebrides

Once in Port Vila harbour Franda II motored across to where the quarantine buoy was marked on the chart. I was on the bow, pointing my whole arm at the buoy. Remembering to stand so that dad, ten metres behind me, at the helm, could always see my arm. On the helm now, dad could tell the direction and nearness of the buoy by the angle and direction of my arm.

When my arm pointed straight down, Stu leant over the pulpit, with the boathook held in both hands and hooked the loop of rope attached to the buoy, lifting it to deck level. I then grabbed it and held it until Stu laid the boat hook down on the deck and took the loop from me as I was not heavy enough to pull it in over the bow roller. Stu leant back against the rope, and his weight slowly pulled the rope taught. He now had enough slack to put the loop over the port bollard. I signalled to dad that Franda II was secure.

One thing to remember about boats is they do not behave like land vehicles. There are no brakes, so reverse is the only option. But when engaging reverse, the bow would swing off course as the propeller's rotation would pull the stern towards it, swinging the bow the other way. It also took a fair distance to stop a 40-ton yacht. So with this in mind, Franda II came up to buoys or wharves very slowly. The idea was to drift the boat in and have it stop at the buoy. This, of course, seldom happened perfectly. Wind and current were only sometimes helpful.

With this careful approach, Franda II seldom "ran over" a buoy while trying to pick it up. Running over a buoy not only allows a barnacle-encrusted buoy to slide along the waterline, possibly damaging the paint. But the concern of having the ropes caught on the hull fittings or around the propeller was worse. When coming into a wharf, even more care was taken as more damage can occur when hitting a solid object, even at a crawling speed.

Now safely tied to the buoy, Franda II's crew had fried fish for lunch. Then, while Kap and I washed the dishes, Mike contacted Customs on the Radiotelephone. They arrived promptly in the Custom's launch and [cleared]../Clearance) us in. Once customs was completed and the launch had left, Franda II was moved to the wharf, where mum and dad walked to immigration and finished the clearance procedure.

While tied alongside, the crew found the freshwater taps on the wharf. We diligently filled a glass with water, inspected it, smelt and tasted it. It was clear and tasted good. We were very particular with the water quality we put in our tanks as it was the only water we had. Sour or salty water could contaminate any water already in the tanks, causing it to become undrinkable while at sea. Franda II had two water tanks, a reserve of 80 gallons(360 Litres), and a main tank of 180 gallons(818 litres). First, we would wash the deck around the filler plug using the hose out of Franda II's deck locker to remove the salt. Then unscrewing the fitting on the deck, we would fill the water tank slowly. It was a steel tank lined on the inside with lime. We did not want to damage the lining with high-pressure water or make the tank flex by putting it under pressure.

After Stu had filled the tank and the deck fitting had been screwed back in, he gave Franda II a quick washdown. Mainly on the rigging and rails where drying washing may touch. So that the washing didn't get salty. Meanwhile, with relief from the girls, Mike managed to find an electrical outlet, so the little blue plastic washing machine was handed up the fore hatch.

Now we didn't need to wash the laundry by hand. I filled the machine with water and added a little washing powder. Two single-sheet sleeping bags and a few pillowcases were added. As they washed, we girls fastened the hand wringer onto the anchor warp box on the foredeck, untied the plastic "fish tubs" from the poop deck, and filled them with water.

When the machine was finished, the sheets were taken out. Some more water and powder were added to the washing machine, along with another load of sheets. The washed sheets were roughly folded to fit between the wringer rollers. Kap turned the handle, and I fed them through, ensuring my fingers were clear. Then into the first rinse water tub, through the wringer, into the second rinse tub, and wrung again. This process just continued until, finally, all the washing was done.

Each wash took about 10 minutes in the machine. By the time sheets and towels for six people were washed two at a time, then all the underclothes and a few outer layers, nearly 2 hours had passed. Clothing was only worn onboard for warmth. The four younger ones would be in their underwear if it was a warm day.

While we girls were busy with the washing, our brothers made Franda II shipshape, sails were covered, and sail sheets tidied. They then tied rope lines between the stays of the mizzen mast and the mainmast and between the mainmast and the forestay. These were the clotheslines. Only the smaller items were immediately hung up as Franda II needed to shift from the wharf to the anchorage. The sheets were too big and reduced too much visibility. They would be hung up once at anchor.

When mum and dad returned from uptown, Franda II was "ship shape"(although looking like a Chinese laundry). We girls had nearly completed the washing, and when complete, Franda II left the wharf and motored over to where the other "live aboard" yachts were tied "stern to" to the island of Iririki.

There was a power line slung between the Mainland and Iririki Island. The chart indicated enough height from the sea surface for Franda II's mast to pass beneath, even on a high spring tide. However, being cautious, we hugged the shore where the cable sag was less to have more clearance. Looking up, we all held our breaths as Franda II's mast slid past below the power cable.

For a change, the family enjoyed a steak that dad had bought while uptown for dinner. It was terrific to have something other than fish.

There were a few yachts with families onboard. "Searcher" another "Kiwi" yacht, and Genisis II an Australian yacht. Both yachts were just on short trips. Franda II's girls and sometimes her boys had a great time playing with the other yachtie kids in the island's old hospital. Tiggy was a favourite game. Stu found a stainless steel jug in one of the cupboards, and Franda II put it to good use in her galley.

Franda II decided to travel with another yacht, "Windana", around to Havannah harbour so we could all dive and swim for a few days in pristine waters. Sadly we all forgot about the power line on the way out. But luckily for us and those in need of the power, Franda II was heavily laden.

The resonance of a pick on a guitar string or the "twang" of a cable. Whatever the noise, the whole crew with dry mouths froze, and all looked up. The power cable was terrifyingly remembered. The cable was still horizontal but now with a giant swing to it. Looking at the masthead through binoculars, we could see that the "red over green" navigation light on top of the mast was bent at 90 degrees. Another inch of freeboard and the cable would have hit the mast. Possibly, the mast cap would have caught the cable, bringing it down. Who knows what the ramifications might have been?. Damage to Franda II or someone electrocuted? A hefty fine to pay? Dad, the skipper being jailed? Returning to NZ with our tails between our legs? I really needed to reign my imagination in. The cable did not come down, so there were no what-ifs?

It was only 25NM,. Still, it took a leisurely day's sail to arrive at a nice anchorage in Havannah Harbour. Mike sat in the bosun's chair as Stu winched him up the mast on the mainsail halyard, and I took up the slack on the headsail halyard, which was the safety line. Mike unbolted the navigation light and bought it down. It was easily fixed with the tools on board. The bent bit was removed, and the base was re-attached. The light was a bit shorter but would still function properly.

In a tiny, friendly village, I gave a dress I had outgrown to a girl. In return, the girl gave me a beautiful necklace; she had made of seashells. Then we two young sisters befriended an old man sitting alone outside his hut, mending a fishing net. We asked him many questions about his life, and he, in return, wanted to know where our family had come from. He gave Kap and me a fantastic Bailer shell. Unfortunately, we had nothing to return the gesture, so we invited him out to Franda II for lunch instead. He arrived in his dugout canoe, which Kap and I borrowed and had great fun paddling it around the bay. We found it very different from rowing the dinghy and were initially slightly clumsy.

The wind picked up in the night. Although we were not on a lee shore and therefore in no danger, Dad got up to take a bearing on a light so he would know if we dragged the anchor. A short while later, he returned topside to check his bearing, and yes, we had moved downwind. All hands on deck. Well, mum went to the chart table to work out a course to steer. Franda II steamed slowly into the wind to take the weight off the anchor winch. With the deck lights blazing, dad, on the helm, watched Mike's one arm show the direction of the chain. Stu winched in the chain when it was slack; he did not want to strain the motor. When the anchor was off the bottom, Mike turned towards dad and gave him the "anchor away" signal, so dad would know that Franda II was adrift. Then, turning back to the anchor chain, he ensured the anchor was sitting correctly as it was winched onto the roller. Mum had a compass course for dad to steer as we slowly motored back into the excellent "holding" of the bay we had been in the previous day.

A few more days of swimming, diving and fishing, then a fast sail back to Port Vila, this time remembering the Power Cable.